


where love lives

by punkrightnow



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life, extremely soft xiusoo, knitting?, various references to various christmas media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28228641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrightnow/pseuds/punkrightnow
Summary: “It’s Christmas soon.”Kyungsoo blinks. “It’s November.”“It’s Christmas soon,” Minseok repeats.The Do-Kim household tends to be a quiet place. This does not stop Minseok from getting his way.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 23
Kudos: 44
Collections: EXO on Ice Round 1





	where love lives

**Author's Note:**

> written for EOI prompt #24!
> 
> _But the prettiest sight to see / is the holly that will be..._

“Hey,” Minseok says.

Kyungsoo looks up from his computer. They’re sitting in the living room, one person per cosy armchair, Minseok swaddled in blankets with a phone in his lap and Kyungsoo with his toes jabbed towards the heater.

“It’s Christmas soon,” Minseok continues, when Kyungsoo says nothing.

Kyungsoo blinks. “It’s November.”

“It’s Christmas soon,” Minseok repeats.

Kyungsoo lets out a tiny sigh, shakes his head, and looks back down. Minseok watches him for a moment, then picks up his phone and scrolls at nothing, chewing his lip. The sound of typing and distant traffic fills the room. Outside, the sky turns slowly from blue to grey.

The Do-Kim household tends to be a quiet place. This does not stop Minseok from getting his way.

He puts down his phone. “We should do something.”

Kyungsoo sighs, louder this time, and closes his computer. He turns his head, meeting Minseok’s eyes. Minseok tries his best to look innocent and pleading. It strains his forehead, a little.

Silence. Then: “Like what?”

Internally, Minseok grins. “I dunno,” he says, shrugging. “We could get a tree. Or bake gingerbread. Or wear those funny Christmas sweaters, like Junmyeon.”

Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose, making a face. It’s the most viscerally disgusted reaction Minseok’s seen from him in a while. “You wouldn’t catch me dead in one of those.”

Minseok raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“They’re ugly as fuck,” Kyungsoo continues, with real feeling. The corners of Minseok’s mouth twitch up. “They’re all clashing colours and stripes and tree motifs that nobody asked for. And all that diamond patterning just makes me nauseous. It’s not like they’re even that comfortable, they’re just fuzzy and lumpy and always either too big or too small.”

“Sounds like someone has a grudge,” Minseok says, amused. 

“That’s because I _do.”_

Minseok imagines Kyungsoo drowning in a mess of tinsel and green wool, glaring at him like a sulky toddler. It’s a side of Kyungsoo he hasn’t seen in a while, and it makes him happy. He smiles.

Scratch that, it makes him more than happy. It makes him… _inspired._

“Nevermind,” he says with an exaggerated shrug, a very bad idea taking root in his head.

Kyungsoo’s forehead creases. “That’s it?”

“Well, it’s only November,” Minseok says reasonably.

Kyungsoo stares at him for a couple of seconds, then shakes his head and returns to his work. Minseok sinks back into his armchair, feeling like a smug movie villain. A plan is coming together in his head. They are going to have a _delightful_ Christmas.

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

_Jongdae_

_You knit right_

_hello to u too_

_sometimes yea, why_

_Do you know how to knit sweaters_

_Like proper sweaters_

_Like christmas sweaters_

_?? just checking but this isnt for me right_

_No_

_Kyungsoo_

_ok thank god_

_im so happy im not ur significant other_

_:(_

_anyway yea that sounds epic let me send u some instructions_

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

Upon entering the Do-Kim household, the first thing that most people notice is the tidiness. To the left of the door is a wooden shoe rack, with each pair of shoes tucked neatly side by side and separated by perfect one inch intervals; to the right is a coat stand with a canary carved into the top, that Kyungsoo bought a few years ago because it made Minseok smile. Beyond that, the oak floor gleams with the fruit of Minseok’s daily vacuum-and-mop routine, and the joint power of windows and lamps keeps every corner well-lit. It’s the kind of flat someone would walk into and immediately say, “Nice place you’ve got here!”, to which Minseok would flush happily and Kyungsoo would let slip a tiny, proud smile.

Walking in further, one would then find themselves in a spacious living-slash-dining room, each section split off into its own little bubble. The dining table is somewhat unfortunately sized, just big enough for six different chairs; when it’s only the two of them, it feels too big, and when they have friends over, they usually end up needing twelve anyways. But their matching placemats, Kyungsoo’s eternally full mugs of coffee, the way two chairs are crowded a bit closer together so you can tell where they sit—it’s always comfortable.

On the other side of the room is the living space, marked out by a grey rug that Minseok has invested hours into keeping as clean and fluffy as possible. Two armchairs, a couch, a heater, and a mostly untouched TV set rest on top of it, with Kyungsoo and Minseok taking the left and right armchairs respectively. The couch in the middle is only used when they’re feeling cuddly, have guests, or Minseok wants to boast about the feng shui. Sometimes they just end up on the floor anyways, huddled quietly around the heater. The TV set is pretty useless, with the exception of Minseok’s ancient Wii; it’s the only console they own, on which the only game they play is Wii Sports Resort, because Minseok has never quite gotten over the swordfighting and Kyungsoo is obsessed with the table tennis.

The final section of the room is Kyungsoo’s workspace, a wooden desk set up by the window. It’s cordoned off by a bookshelf filled more with Minseok’s trinkets than actual books, forming a makeshift wall of all the figurines, souvenirs, and stuffed animals he’s refused to throw out over the years. The desk, on the other hand, is empty save for a computer and some neatly tied wires—the only thing that doesn’t quite fit is the bright red gaming chair in front of it, purchased for literally no other reason than the back support. (“What do you mean, it’s a ‘gaming chair’?” “Kyungsoo, it literally says APEX GAMING on the front.” “That’s just the brand name.”) Finally, in between the desk and the window is their collective pride and joy: plants. Aloe vera, mint, basil, and various flowers line a shelf perfectly positioned to soak up as much sunlight as possible. In lieu of pets, they have affectionately named, raised, and coddled every single one of them, for Kyungsoo to proudly reside over while he works.

The kitchen, too, is Kyungsoo’s domain. Spices that Minseok has never quite figured out fill the countertop, with pans, cutting boards, and distressingly sharp knives organized all around them. The smell of cooked rice, garlic, and marinated meat seeps out of it every night from five PM onwards, luring people over as if by magic. Minseok only really goes in to do the laundry or the washing up—if he loiters any longer, Kyungsoo ends up shooing him out. Minseok’s domain, by contrast, would probably have to be the guest bathroom; if anybody moves his cleaning supplies even a centimetre out of place, he holds a quiet grudge for the rest of the day.

And then, finally, there is the bedroom, which they’ve shared between them from the beginning. One corner is home to a meticulously organized pile of even more of Minseok’s stuffed animals, while the other is taken up by a short bookshelf of Kyungsoo’s cookbooks, nonfiction, and manga. The bed is queen-sized and outfitted in mostly no-nonsense sheets, with a small cabinet on either side. It is the place where they probably spend the most time, between Kyungsoo’s old man sleep schedule and Minseok’s undying love for lazing around. The last notable part of the room is Minseok’s workspace, a writing desk complete with a vast, systematically catalogued assortment of stationary on top—and, hidden in the very back of the bottom shelf, a heap of yarn and knitting needles, clustering gradually into the vague shape of a sweater.

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

The next Tuesday, Kyungsoo comes home with an advent calendar. It is covered in reindeer cartoons and counts to twenty four in cheap gold lettering, one chocolate heart hidden behind each. Kyungsoo sets it down on the kitchen counter in passing, while Minseok is helping him put away the groceries.

Minseok looks at it, perplexed. “Why’d you get this?”

Kyungsoo stares at him. “You said you…” He trails off. Shrugs. 

_Like a caveman,_ Minseok thinks fondly. Then he remembers that he threw a minor Christmas tantrum last week, and is now secretly knitting Kyungsoo a sweater because of it.

“Oh, come here, you adorable little cave person,” he coos, throwing his arms open for a hug. “You bought this for me, didn’t you?”

Kyungsoo gives him a dirty look, but walks into it anyways. He fits into Minseok’s arms like a baby, or so Minseok likes to use his one centimetre height advantage to claim. “M’not a cave person,” he says into the fabric of Minseok’s shirt.

“Listen to yourself,” Minseok laughs, heart swelling. “Cave person.”

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

It is still November when Minseok plays the first Christmas song of the year. 

_It’s the most wonderful time of the year,_ some guy called Andy Williams sings from the speakers of his computer. Evening finds him reclining on the couch, scrolling lazily through articles about yarn and the knit stitch and purling.

The kitchen door opens. “What are you doing,” Kyungsoo says flatly. He has his apron on and his spatula in hand, the smell of cooking garlic and onions wafting out behind him. 

Minseok switches tabs. “Is it okay to leave the stove alone like that?”

Kyungsoo jabs a finger at the computer. _It’s the hap, happiest season of all,_ Andy Williams informs them. “What is that.”

Minseok shrugs. “Good music.”

“It’s not even December.”

“Yeah, well, only a few days to go.”

“Even if it _was_ December, Christmas would still be over twenty days away.”

Minseok sighs. “Don’t you have to make sure the garlic isn’t burning or something?”

Kyungsoo scowls. “Yes,” he mutters, ducking back into the kitchen as Andy Williams starts fantasizing about mistletoe.

Minseok smiles to himself—first affectionate, then somewhat cruel, as he starts blasting _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ at full volume. The sheer despair of the groan he hears from the kitchen makes the subsequent verbal abuse more than worth it.

“Sorry,” he says belatedly over dinner, which is delicious as always. Kyungsoo spoils him, really. “I just really love Christmas music. The vibe and the bells and everything. It makes me happy.”

“You’re crazy,” Kyungsoo says, but when Minseok tentatively starts playing _Jingle Bell Rock_ later that night, he doesn’t complain.

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

There are three main ways that the Do-Kim household deals with the cold: blankets, heaters, and each other.

Minseok has eaten a total of five advent calendar chocolates when it _really_ starts getting cold. When the air from the windows becomes more chilly than refreshing, and it takes even longer to get out of bed in the morning—that’s when he knows.

“Here,” he says, tossing Kyungsoo a blanket. Kyungsoo has been working at his desk since morning, headphones on, eyes fixed to his computer. 

He looks up, blinking. “Oh. Thanks.”

“You’re always welcome,” Minseok chirps. “Can’t have you getting cold, after all.”

“Mm,” Kyungsoo responds as Minseok wanders over to the heater, humming to himself.

Nighttime is even colder. Minseok waits in the kitchen for the kettle to boil, two hot water bottles on the countertop beside him. Outside, the living room is silent and monochrome grey. Kyungsoo is already in bed, nestled safely beneath a duvet.

The kettle switches off. Minseok fills the bottles and tiptoes to the bedroom, taking care not to let the floorboards creak. He twists the knob, pushes the door open, and walks in, all as gently as possible.

A lump on the left side of the bed shifts, turning to reveal two sleepy eyes. “Hey,” Kyungsoo murmurs. “You’re here.”

“Hey,” Minseok replies softly. “You’re sleeping on my side, you know.”

Kyungsoo yawns. “Just keeping it warm for you.”

A different kind of warmth rushes through Minseok’s body then, like a kind of head-to-toe fuzziness. “You’re the best, Soo,” he says honestly, then proceeds to crawl under the covers and envelop him in a manic bear hug.

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

_Hey Jongdae_

_Do you think brown looks good with red_

_uhhh no?_

_Good_

_oh my god_

_u know kyungsoos actually gonna kill u right_

_He won’t_

_He loves me_

_ugh. fuck you_

_stop being so cute and happy and romantically fulfilled_

_:)_

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

“You know, Kyungsoo,” Minseok says significantly one day, “I really do like Christmas dinners.”

Kyungsoo gives him a withering look. He’s in the middle of shrugging on a jacket, with a bag in one hand and an actual, physical grocery list in the other (there’s a reason their friends call them an elderly couple). “And?”

Minseok shrugs. “I dunno. I just really, _really_ like them, is all. Also Christmas desserts. And Christmas snacks. And Christmas decorations.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so’?”

They have a tense, approximately three second staring contest, until at last Minseok lets out a groan, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Kyungsoo, don’t be like that,” he whines. “Would it hurt to just indulge me a bit? Or at least pick something up at the store?”

Kyungsoo sighs. “Fine.”

Back in his armchair, Minseok cheers, sending Kyungsoo off with a radiant smile and only partially cajoling stream of _love you!_ and _thanks babe!_ and _you’re so great!_. Kyungsoo just grunts like a neanderthal and walks out, leaving Minseok to bask in happy anticipation.

After another evening spent alternately working and loafing around as Kyungsoo cooks, Minseok clears the table, sits down, and gets quietly excited on his own, only to find—

“Huh,” he says, as Kyungsoo sets down the last dish. “This is, um…”

An assembly of delicious, steaming food lies before him, from sundubu jjigae to a whole platter of galbi to bowls of rice and gamjaguk to _far_ more banchan than they can reasonably finish: in short, a full, hearty, traditional Korean meal.

“I…I thought we were doing something Christmassy,” Minseok says helplessly, already salivating. 

Kyungsoo takes the seat next to him, jabbing his chopsticks at the pickled vegetables. “Ginger,” he says, in perfect monotone.

For a moment Minseok just stares at him, uncomprehending. Then he snorts. “That’s so _stupid._ So petty, too.”

“It’s still the tastiest meal you’ll have in months,” Kyungsoo retorts. “This is miles better than actual gingerbread, anyways.”

Minseok takes a sip from his gamjaguk and exhales deeply, satisfied. “Maybe,” he admits. He almost adds something about the universal power of Christmas spirit just to be annoying, but he can’t quite bring himself to disturb Kyungsoo’s air of proud contentment. And the food _is_ delicious.

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

A general rule when it comes to Christmas movies is that the worse they are, the more Minseok will like them.

“Oh my god,” he says aloud one day, after an hour of fruitless sweater troubleshooting and the ensuing defeated scroll through Netflix. He’s sitting at his desk, alone in the bedroom, which of course does not stop him from hollering excitedly through the wall: “Kyungsoo! Come here! Look at this!”

It takes a few seconds and some audible groaning, but sooner or later the door opens. “What is it,” Kyungsoo says, with the opposite of enthusiasm.

Minseok rotates his computer, pointing at the screen. _“Look!”_

Kyungsoo looks at it. Then back at Minseok. Then back at the computer, face blank. “Huh?”

“It’s _The Knight Before Christmas!_ A new Netflix Original movie!” Minseok gushes. “It’s about a highschool teacher and a knight that time travels to the future for Christmas and they live together and fall in love, isn’t that just adorable? And it’s got Vanessa Hudgens in it! Again! You know, Gabriella!”

Kyungsoo’s face takes on an expression of very muted pain, like he’s unhappy, but also unsurprised, but also _really_ doesn’t like where this is going. Minseok learned how to read this specific expression a long time ago, after maybe the tenth time he did this. 

“Do we have to?” Kyungsoo asks wearily.

“Just humour me,” Minseok says, pouting. “And I know you like them too, deep down.”

“I really don’t,” Kyungsoo says, although Minseok knows for a fact that he teared up watching _The Princess Switch_ last year. “But, fine—only if you promise we can rewatch _Prince of Tennis_ afterwards.”

“Deal,” Minseok grins. “Seems like you’ll be crying a lot tonight, hm?”

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo says, but there’s a reluctant smile tugging at his lips; Minseok learned how to read this expression a long time ago, too.

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

In the end Kyungsoo dozes off around the fifty minute mark, just as Vanessa Hudgens and her medieval boyfriend are buying groceries for some bullshit dinner. They’re sitting in bed with Minseok’s computer in between them, one hot water bottle per person, wrapped up in the same blanket. Minseok feels Kyungsoo’s head drop onto his shoulder, turning just in time to see his eyelids drift shut. 

_I suppose even I take for granted how lucky we are,_ Vanessa Hudgens says from the computer, pushing a shopping cart. 

Minseok feels his mouth lift into a small, unthinking smile. The light of the movie flickers across Kyungsoo’s cheeks, making him seem soft and almost ethereal. It’s nearly midnight; the world is thick with silence, and sentiment.

Minseok closes his computer with a quiet click, moves it aside, and shifts Kyungsoo gently onto his back. In the darkness he can just make out the sweep of Kyungsoo’s hairline, black and fluffy. If he smooths it down and plants a kiss on his forehead, well, there’s nobody but him around to know.

“Goodnight, Kyungsoo,” he whispers, burying his head in the warm crook of Kyungsoo’s neck. Then, after a pause: “I hope you like your present.”

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

_How big are the holes supposed to be_

_In the sweater_

_? its just meant to look like a sweater_

_the holes shouldnt be obvious at all, unless you purposely stretch them out_

_Ok_

_why_

_can i see it_

_minseok what did u do_

_minseok_

_minseok_

_It is going fine._

_i dont believe u_

_Ok_

_minseok?_

_MINSEOK_

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

Three bags drop onto the floor in a succession of plonks, followed by a triumphantly shutting door and a brief rustling as Minseok pulls off his shoes. Shiny hues of red, green, and silver glint through the plastic, complete with Santa hats peeking out between the handles. If the contents of the bags were actual groceries, it would be enough to feed them for a week.

“Welcome ba—holy shit,” Kyungsoo says from his armchair, watching dumbly as Minseok starts pulling things out. “That’s…a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah. I realised that we hadn’t bought any decorations yet, and kind of panicked. But better late than never, right?”

Kyungsoo’s eye twitches. “I…disagree.”

A length of golden tinsel tumbles out from one bag, collecting into a festive pile on the floor. “Well, too bad,” Minseok says matter-of-factly. “Because by the end of the day, this flat is going to be _magical.”_

For a moment Kyungsoo looks like he wants to argue, but then he just presses his lips together, shaking his head. “If you say so.”

And of course, Minseok _does_ say so; and when he does say something, it usually comes to pass. By evening, there are multicoloured garlands hanging from the walls in perfect arches, plaques or wreaths decorating every door, and a miniature plastic Christmas tree in the centre of the dining table, adorned with a tasteful selection of baubles. Kyungsoo watches this with sighs and, eventually, grudging smiles—but the real surprise is suspended above the bedroom door, tied together with a red ribbon.

“Kyungsoo,” Minseok says, tugging at his sleeve just as he’s about to enter the bedroom.

Kyungsoo stops mid-step and turns, smiling. “Mm?”

“Look up.”

A bouquet of mistletoe swings delicately from a self-adhesive hook on the wall, a merry arrangement of red and green that Minseok bought mostly as an afterthought. He watches as Kyungsoo tilts his head upwards, takes it in, and huffs a laugh.

Minseok laughs, too. “Just kidding. But isn’t it cute? I think it really makes the place loo—”

He’s cut off by the warm press of familiar lips against his own, and the feeling of gentle hands on either side of his jaw. He melts into it without thinking, eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh,” he says, somewhat dazed, after they part. “You’re…going along with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” Kyungsoo asks seriously, tilting his head.

“I, uh,” Minseok stammers. He feels heat rising in his cheeks, much to his mortification. “Dammit,” he mutters, after a pause. “I can’t believe you can _still_ get to me like this.”

The sound of Kyungsoo’s laughter rings through the house, prettier than jingle bells. It isn’t long until Minseok joins him; the flat is, indeed, magical.

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

Minseok spends Christmas Eve waking up Kyungsoo with a mug of hot chocolate, lounging around on the couch, and then, finally, confronting the mess that is his ill-fated sweater.

Here’s the thing: he hadn’t made the sweater expecting it to be _good._ The point was that it was meant to be horrible and embarrassing and just the kind of thing to get on Kyungsoo’s nerves while also obliging him to wear it. It was a gag gift, first and foremost, and naturally gag gifts do not have to be beautiful. 

Still.

“Fuck,” he says, wandering into the living room after finally giving up on the ‘finishing touches’ he’d been hoping would salvage it. “Fuck."

Kyungsoo looks up from his computer, brow furrowed. “Something wrong?”

“Ugh,” is all Minseok can say at first. It’s not worth getting upset over, obviously, but he still feels kind of pathetic. “It’s just…ugh. Nothing.”

If Kyungsoo’s brow was furrowed before, it’s now a whole battlefield of worried creases. “Minseok?” he asks, standing up. “What’s wrong? Come here. Tell me.”

It takes a few seconds for Minseok to cave, trudging over to Kyungsoo for a hug. For a while he just stands there, breathing him in, reminding himself that Kyungsoo will always be there, in the end.

“I was…I was trying to make something,” he says at last into Kyungsoo’s neck, voice muffled. “And it turned out really bad. And I mean, it was _meant_ to be bad, but it’s even worse than I expected, and now I feel like shit. Even though it’s stupid. And I know it doesn’t matter.”

Kyungsoo is silent for a bit, hands stroking up and down Minseok’s back in mindlessly soothing lines. “But you’ve done your best, haven’t you?” he says eventually. “I know you, Minseok. You’re always doing your best. You’ve put in the effort—no matter what, I’m sure it’s valuable.” 

Minseok smiles, the tension melting out of his body like ice. Yes: Kyungsoo is here. “…Thanks.”

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

“This is not valuable.”

The sweater in Kyungsoo’s hands, unfurled in its full glory, is beige and maroon with gawking holes in the chest, sloppily hidden under bright green tinsel that, if you squint, could possibly be arranged in the shape of a heart. The sleeves are visibly lopsided, the collar is weirdly elliptical, and the bottom is somehow already fraying at the edges. The attempted pattern, repeating at extremely odd intervals, is a line of splodgy pine trees on an uneven background. In short: it is _ugly as fuck._

“Don’t say that!” Minseok says, trying (and absolutely failing) not to burst out laughing. “I put my soul into this sweater, babe! You have to at least try it on.

Kyungsoo gives him an actual death glare, the likes of which Minseok hasn’t seen since he accidentally put a chopping board in the oven. It’s still morning; today they slept in, exchanged sleepy Christmas wishes, and had a luxurious breakfast of Kyungsoo’s homemade pancakes and fruit. Minseok almost feels bad to spring this on him now…almost.

“I _cannot_ believe you,” Kyungsoo says. His gift to Minseok this year was another plushie, this time of a whale. Minseok already loves it like a child. Probably he wasn’t expecting to receive absolute bullshit in return, but that’s okay, Minseok has a fancy new kitchen knife as backup to give him later on.

“Put it on, put it on!” he cheers in the meantime, thoroughly enjoying himself. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Kyungsoo deadpans.

“And you love me for it,” Minseok says, with an only slightly shit-eating grin.

It takes Kyungsoo a couple seconds of murderous contemplation, but eventually his expression clears, if reluctantly.

“Yeah,” he admits, and the surge of affection Minseok feels at this point— _that’s_ Christmas spirit, for real.

**✧･ﾟ** **❅** **･ﾟ✧**

_Merry Christmas!_

**_Attached: image.jpg_ **

_holy fucking shit_

_holy shit_

_its perfect_

_Thanks_

_ur welcome_

_omg his FACE_

_im going to fucdkigng dieee_

_Thanks?_

_Couldnt have done it without you <3 _

_ <3 _

_also MERRY CHRISTMAS!_

_Fuck you_

_Fuck you_

_Fuck you_

_Fucuikf_

_??_

_Sorry_

_Kyungsoo stole my phone_

_LMAO yea that makes sense_

_u sure he still loves u?_

_Ofc ;)_

_Always_

**Author's Note:**

> _...on your own front door._
> 
> the songs i listened to the most while writing this were [chestnuts roasting on an open fire](https://youtu.be/dhzxQCTCI3E) & taeyeon's new song [playlist](https://youtu.be/qR12qLydc2Y), in case anyone's interested in the vibe i was going for :)
> 
> thank you to the mods for all their hard work, my prompter for opening my eyes to the beauty of xiusoo, and ofc the readers for reading. merry christmas!


End file.
